ARS GRATIA?

Trio challenge: block of ice, horse, umbrella

~~~~~

Marta picked the umbrella up off the chair and handed it to Tessa. "Let's go. I don't feel comfortable here."

"Nonsense, Marta. You have as much right to take refreshments in the cantina as anyone else," Tessa sniffed, glancing around haughtily as if daring anyone to take umbrage at her presence.

"It isn't that. It's that man over there with the Colonel. He's been sending you looks that would melt a block of ice."

Tessa turned to look just as the man averted his face. "Oh, him. That's Señor Barca, a famous artist from Madrid. Colonel Montoya has commissioned him to paint an official portrait for his office."

"Hopefully, he will put in the horns on Montoya's head too," Marta growled.

Tessa laughed. "Maybe it isn't me he's looking at, Marta." She grinned impishly at her companion then returned her gaze to the two men seated at the far end of the cantina. The man nodded to Tessa in acknowledgment, then spoke to the Colonel. He arose and began to make his way to the women's table.

Marta started to rise, but Tessa took a firm grip on her arm. "Let's see what he wants before we run off," Tessa said, never taking her eyes off the man. He looks like a matador, she thought, appreciatively watching his graceful movements as he threaded his way among the tables. He was not overly tall, but slim and darkly handsome. The dappled sunlight in the cantina played over the planes of his chiseled features. The olive tone on his clean-shaven cheeks held just a hint of warmth as a smile began to form on his full lips. But it was his roguish black eyes that arrested Tessa. That and the elegant attire he wore so well on his lean frame - a deep brown velvet jacket under which was a red brocade vest and dazzlingly white lace cravat. His trousers were dark tan and fitted snugly to his muscular legs.

"And just when I was thinking your taste in men was improving. Another peacock!" Marta said in an undertone.

"Let's not discuss taste in men, Marta," Tessa replied with a wry grin.

By this time, the man had arrived at their table. He bowed with great solemnity to each, saying, "I am Rodrigo Barca. Have I the honour of addressing Señorita Alvarado and her companion, Marta?" Tessa nodded.

"May I join you?" At her gesture to a chair, Señor Barca sat down opposite Tessa, and uncomfortably close to Marta.

"I understand, Señor Barca, that you are painting our dear Colonel Montoya's portrait. How much longer until it's finished?" Tessa gave him a brilliant smile to which he responded with a smile of his own.

"Only a matter of a week or so. Then, the Colonel plans an unveiling ceremony. I hope you will attend, señoritas," he said glancing pointedly at Marta.

"Wild horses couldn't keep us away. Right, Marta?"

Marta raised her eyebrows. "Of course. You have always loved the Colonel's parties."

"If I may be so bold, señorita, it would be a great honour if you would allow me to paint your portrait - both of your portraits," he added with a warm glance at Marta. "From the Colonel's table, I could not help but notice the beauty and grace at the far end of the cantina. I could not tear my eyes away. One of the curses of being an artist, I suppose. When beauty beckons, I must follow."

Tessa caught Marta rolling her eyes in disbelief, and nearly laughed aloud. "Señor Barca, I am thrilled that you would want to paint my portrait! I had never thought of it. There is a portrait of my father in my villa, and I think a portrait of his daughter would be just the right accompaniment. Don't you agree, Marta?"

"We will come to the unveiling and see how Colonel Montoya's portrait looks. Then we will decide," Marta said, as she moved away from his thigh which she felt pressing against her.

Sighing deeply, Barca said, "It is too bad you left Madrid so soon, Señorita Alvarado. You missed the grand opening of the Prado. Such a gala affair that was. The music, the glittering ballroom, the royalty. Even the King and Queen were present. I was invited since one of my paintings hangs there. And," he said in a voice hushed with awe, "I met Goya. He complimented me on my work!" Barca glanced down modestly, two spots of red colouring his cheeks. Abruptly, he rose, and bowed again. "Speaking of work, I must return to the Colonel for another sitting. I look forward to our next meeting with eagerness." With a last look at Marta, he walked out of the cantina toward Montoya's office.

OK - you can Round Robin this if you like.

- Maril

ARS GRATIA? Part 2

Sequel or RR contribution of Maril's Trio Response #7

By JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com

Quick update on Maril's eloquent response: There's a new painter in Santa Helena, Señor Rodrigo Barca. Reread her fic to imagine how he looks. :-) He's a famous artist from Madrid, whom Colonel Montoya had commissioned to paint an official portrait for his office. Marta was leery of him, Tessa was interested in his smoldering good looks. He offered to paint Tessa's, as well as Marta's, portrait. Marta sagely advised Tessa to wait and see what the Colonel's portrait looked like before allowing the Spaniard into her home to paint.

~~~~~

The painting that Barca had created for the Colonel had turned out to be a wonderful likeness and received the approval of all who had gathered at Montoya's fete, even Marta's. With glasses of wine in everyone's hands, they all took turns looking at the portrait up close as it was resting on an elaborate easel. Vera had commented that Colonel Montoya's eyes were exquisitely blue. Helm had noted that the eyes looked like they were following him. What Marta kept close attention to was Tessa's reaction. She had been overwhelmed and excited by Señor Barca's offer to paint her portrait, but Marta just couldn't think it would be that easy. Barca was a famous living artist. Just the thought that he would come to a backwater pueblo in America was enough to think there had to be more going on in his mind. To work for the Colonel, one of many that Spain had in the New World, could be to negate his starving artist existence, but who paid for the travel expenses? It certainly wasn't cheap to travel half way around the world.

The next day as Marta instructed the Alvarado household staff to make sure it was free of dust and clutter, she paused and shook her head along with a light laugh. She wasn't looking forward to the arrival of the Señor, but she also couldn't squelch that habit of making the casa fit for visitors. Tessa would be mortified if anything was out of place. Marta had even prepared a snack and lemonade for her guest.

Tessa, meanwhile, was in her bedroom pondering the choice of gowns spread out on her bed to wear. As Marta wrangled her to finally sit so she could fix Tessa's hair, Tessa said, "Marta, I just don't know what to wear. The picture will be for all time, immortal. It will out-last me. I want to look perfect."

"They're all beautiful gowns, Tessita." Marta said as she started pinning Tessa's hair up into a proper bun. "Any of them would be fine." Being that her hair was freshly washed, dried, and brushed, the process went quickly. When Tessa looked in the mirror at the elegant coiffure, her smile signaled her approval.

Tessa rushed to the bed and decided on the red silk dress. Marta got her into her petticoat and tried to button up the back, but Tessa was too squiggly. "Settle down, Tessa. He is not to arrive for another hour. There is plenty of time."

She did stand still while Marta finished, then went to her closet to put what was left of her mother's fine black lace to use as a shawl. Marta was mortified and pulled the lace off of Tessa. "Are you thinking straight? This is the lace I used to make the Queen's mask!"

"I know, but it is my mother's lace. How will anyone know? I want to wear something from each of my parents in the portrait. I will hold my father's watch and fob in my hands and wanted that lace. It is about the only thing I have left of her."

Marta carefully folded the lace and put it into the drawer. "You do not think that Barca is not going to insist on having the community see his work? What if his skills are as good as he thinks they are and he paints the lace perfectly? Montoya could make the connection between the lace in the painting and the lace on the Queen's mask. Put something else Alvarado in the painting. The family bible, your father's portrait."

"Those are my father," Tessa solemnly said.

Marta told her, "I have an idea," then swept from the room. When she came back, Tessa was sitting sedately at her vanity. Marta put the rose she had just cut from the Dona's rose bushes that Marta had been able to save into her line of vision. "The roses are beautiful now that they've come back to life. They were the Dona's pride and joy." When Tessa nodded, smiled and took the flower and breath in it's scent, Marta warned, "Be careful. I will dethorn it for you."

She looked at Tessa's face reflected in the mirror before them and Marta couldn't help but swell with pride. The young girl had grown into a beautiful and accomplished woman; her parents would be so proud of her. One of the workers appeared at the door of Tessa's bedroom to announce that there was a carriage arriving.

Tessa glided to the window to see two horses pull a black hooded carriage up to the veranda. Marta joined her at the window and caught the smiles that the Señor and Tessa exchanged. As his tall frame stood hunched over to disembark the carriage without hitting his head on the canopy, he tipped his hat to her. Marta studied her face as Tessa excitedly turned and ran from the bedroom. Marta couldn't help but think that this was all a bad idea.

NEXT?

~ Jo

PART THREE

By Dea

Deianira@prodigy.net

Rodrigo Barca took in his surroundings as he descended from the carriage that Colonel Montoya had supplied for his use. There were not many things the Colonel was not supplying for him lately. Lodging, food, transportation, and now a new client. But all this was nothing compared to the ultimate prize he had been promised.

Looking at the Alvarado hacienda Barca could well understand why Montoya's greatest wish was to have this casa grande all for himself. It was one of the loveliest--and richest--ones in the valley. And equally lovely was the smiling senorita who now greeted him at the door.

"Senor Barca!" Tessa welcomed as he graciously took her hand in his. "I'm so glad you could come. I'm very excited about this!"

"As am I, Senorita," Barca bowed with a flourish as Tessa ushered him into the living room. "What a beautiful home you have here."

"Marta's the one to praise for that," Tessa replied motioning to the older woman who now stood on the other side of the room.

"Ah yes, Marta," Barca said as he went to her and took her hand as well. "You indeed spread your beauty wherever you go."

"Gracias, senior," she replied a bit uncomfortably.

"Would you care for some lemonade before you get started Senor Barca?" Tessa asked with a grin. "Marta made it."

"I would love some if it is not too much trouble," he replied gratefully. "In the meantime I will set up my materials. Where would you like to sit for your portrait?"

Tessa glanced at Marta and then shrugging her shoulders delicately she answered, "Oh I don't know. You are the expert here, Senor Barca, what would you suggest?"

Barca took a cursory look around the sumptuous living area and made his decision.

"Over here," he announced as he crossed the room, "by the window. Your father's portrait in the background and the light from the window to highlight your glowing beauty."

Tessa did not miss the indignant look on Marta's face as she left the room to fetch the lemonade. She just smiled and said, "That's a wonderful idea. I'll go help Marta with the drinks."

When the two women were out of sight, Barca opened his black case full of paints and brushes and set them up near the chair by the big open window. He then went back to the carriage and returned with a large canvas and easel, which he arranged in just the right place to catch the sun's rays.

"She will be a beautiful subject," he mused aloud as he prepared for the senorita's return.

He almost felt badly about the part he was playing in Montoya's scheme...

Is that treachery and deceit I smell? :)

Next?

PART FOUR

By Anthony

~~~~~

But, Barco reminded himself, stealing a wink at Marta, the rewards will be worth it!

It had been difficult indeed learning of the secret Spanish aspirations in this corner of the globe, but his time spent in the service of Emperor Napoleon - where his job had been to infiltrate and squash rebellious areas - was being put to good use.

Thus far, he knew, he had not seen anyone who could expose him. Soon, very soon, this land will belong to the French, as it should!

"Ah perfect, Senorita," he told Dona Alvarado when she had posed herself properly, all prim and obedient on posture - but something else in her eyes.

...

[OOC: the good/notsogood guys always mess up somewhere {somehow imagining Helm and Montoya teaming up}].

PART 5 THE UNDER PAINTING

By Maril

The morning seems to have passed on leaden feet for her, he thought wryly. The painter studied his subject for long minutes, and felt a rise of amusement at her impatience. She was not used to sitting for prolonged periods; he could see she was chafing under the enforced idleness and holding a pose. "Take a rest now, señorita," Barca said. "We will continue a little later. I have some background work to do on the canvas, and your presence is not required at this time."

He bowed slightly as she arose and came to look at the canvas. The artist was amused by her look of disappointment. In the first sitting, all that was painted were some outlines of basic shapes, drawn roughly in a dull brown colour. He smiled at her dubious look, quite used to a client's assumption that he could perform a miracle of likeness in only a few hours.

"The portrait takes some time build up from the background to foreground. And of course, the better the artist knows his subject, the better will be the likeness. It takes time, Señorita Alvarado. I paint as quickly as I can, but I am a perfectionist. I do not sign my name to anything second-rate." Barca took her hand and kissed it lightly, adding, "And of course, I want to do justice to your beauty. In time to come, many will stand in awe of it as they gaze upon your portrait." He was gratified by the flush that came into her cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled at his words. She is as vain as Montoya; only I hope she will be a little less demanding.

At that moment, Marta entered with a tray of food and a pitcher of lemonade. "I thought you might be getting hungry, Tessa. The sitting has gone on for a long time." Her eyes flicked to Barca's then away quickly.

"Thank you, Marta. Won't you join me, Señor Barca, for some refreshments?" Tessa moved to the dining table while Barca removed his paint-covered smock and pulled on his velvet jacket.

Marta turned to go as Barca called to her. "Won't you stay and partake of the meal with us, Marta? That is, if it is all right with your mistress. I do not stand upon ceremony. To me, all are equal."

"Of course, Marta can stay if she wishes to. Come and sit with us, Marta." Tessa gestured to a chair, and the older woman reluctantly pulled it out and sat down. She kept her eyes lowered, as if trying to remain unobtrusive.

Barca stared at Marta fixedly, and finally said, "Have we met before? I am sure I know your face from somewhere. As a painter of portraits, I never forget a face, especially one as lovely and interesting as yours."

On to Part 6 - who wants it?

PART 6

By Jo

From Anthony's Part 4:

Thus far, he knew, he had not seen anyone who could expose him. Soon, very soon, this land will belong to the French, as it should!

"Ah perfect, Senorita," he told Dona Alvarado when she had posed herself properly, all prim and obedient on posture - but something else in her eyes.

From Maril's Part 5:

Barca stared at Marta fixedly, and finally said, "Have we met before? I am sure I know your face from somewhere. As a painter of portraits, I never forget a face, especially one as lovely and interesting as yours."

~~~~~

Marta turned her face away from the suave man and mulled over his words. She hadn't liked or trusted Barca from the first moment she saw him sitting with Montoya in the cantina, but hadn't been able to put her finger on why. Maybe he was correct and their paths had crossed in the past. As she refilled their glasses with lemonade, her mind raced through possible previous encounters with him.

Tessa tried to steal a glance at the canvas, but it was facing an odd angle. Barca noticed her stretching to the side in her seat with her eyes glued to the easel and tisked. "Senorita, I must insist. I prefer if my subjects do not look upon their likeness until the portrait is completed."

Tessa blushed from being caught and sipped her lemonade. "You are right, Senor. I apologize."

Marta, on the other hand, didn't let that remark pass. "You do not appreciate critics? That must be difficult since you are an artist." As she enunciated the word 'artist' she didn't take the caution necessary to cover her sudden recollection. "As all that you produce is immediately judged as good or bad according to the trained or untrained eye of the beholder."

Barca and Marta stared at each other; his eyebrows raised as he suddenly realized his mistake, hers lowered as she wanted him out of Tessa's house, immediately. She rose to show him to the door, much to Tessa's confusion of what had just happened. When Marta opened the door, she was surprised by the sight of a tall, extremely handsome, British doctor, who's hand was raised in order to knock on the door. "Dr. Helm," Marta gasped. "I did not expect you."

Helm lowered his hand and peeked into the house. "I was in the area and heard there was a world famous artiste in the midst of another masterpiece."

Tessa stood and smiled at the visitor, walked toward the door. She looked back at Barca still in his seat, and told Helm, "Dr. Helm, so nice of you to drop by. Surely you remember Senor Barca from Colonel Montoya's unveiling."

Helm smiled at Tessa and stepped over the threshold to inspect the man now facing away from them all at the door. "No, actually. We didn't get the chance to meet face to face at the Colonel's party."

As Tessa escorted Helm into the living room to meet Barca, Marta shut the door and leaned back against it. Helm stood before the painter with his hand offered in greeting, Barca still hadn't taken his eyes off of his glass of lemonade. Not only had Marta recently realized where she had seen the senor before, but she now realized that Barca was not a stranger to Robert Helm, Lieutenant of His Majesty's Service. The day that started out on par with drudgery to Marta had suddenly taken a turn.

Next?

RR CONTRIBUTION TO MARIL'S TRIO RESPONSE # 7 ARS GRATIS
By Jim Guy

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. Only the story is mine.

"Come Tessa, we will take a walk outside while Senor Barca is completing the background work for you portrait," urged Marta. "You will need your parasol today as it is quite warm and you don't want to get sunburned.

Tessa turned to catch a glimpse of the portrait as she left, but Senor Barca had conveniently covered his work.

"What is it Marta? Why are you so suspicious of our famous guest?"

"Did you see the look on Doctor Helm's face when he met Senor Barca? It was the look of recognition and not a happy memory, either. I think Doctor Helm either knows Senor Barca personally or knows of him from the war. Perhaps he was a spy for the French. What if France lost its chance to take over Spain and now casts its gaze on Mexico and California?"

"Nonsense, France could never conquer Mexico. Not in a thousand years."

"But what if this is a way for Mexico to be free of Spain?"

"Marta, you see intrigue everywhere. Have you been reading the cards again?"

"No, just people."

"Ladies," called Senor Barca, I am ready for another session before the light fades."

The session continued until dark fully engulfed them. "That is enough for today," said Senor Barca, covering the canvas. "I trust, Tessa that you won't peek."

"As much as I would like, I give you my word, that Maria Teresa Alvarado will not peek at the portrait. Same time tomorrow then?"

That will be acceptable Senorita as is your word of honor." He said stressing honor.

That nigh a dark figure crept into the parlor and removed the canvas. Lighting a candle, the Queen of Swords inspected the canvas. Her heart almost stopped as she gazed at the work. The picture of Tessa was absolutely gorgeous, but she saw some things out of order. Above the hearth was a sword, her sword. To the left through the open window, there were soldiers in the distance on horses, carrying the flag of France. To the right was a mirror. In the mirror the image of Tessa posing in the chair was perfect, except a lace mask covered Tessa's face. Senor Barca had painted Tessa as the Queen of Swords.

"I knew he was up to no good," said Marta. "But you promised him not to peek. How are you going to confront him ands save your honor?"

"Tessa Alvarado gave her word of honor, not the Queen of Swords."

An hour later Senor Barca felt a sword in his neck. As he looked up through sleepy eyes, he beheld the Queen of Swords.

"I have heard that we had the famous Senor Barca in Santa Helena. Since I could not very well be at Colonel Montoya's unveiling, I took a chance to take a peek of the portrait of Senorita Alvarado. You have an absolutely beautiful talent Senor, but two things bothered me. Why do you show French soldiers in the distance through the open window and why did you put a lace mask on Senorita Alvarado? Are you suggesting that Maria Teresa Alvarado and the Queen of Swords are the same person?"

Senor Barca could feel the perspiration running down his lip and his hands shaking.

"I wish I had some ice, Senorita, it is extremely warm in here."

"This is California, not Spain, Senor, now answer my question."

"Colonel Montoya has designs on the Alvarado Hacienda and he thinks that if he could prove Senorita Alvarado is the Queen of Swords, he could arrest her and confiscate her lands. He promised me One thousand reales if I would paint her picture with a lace mask."

"And what about the French soldiers?" The sword pricked his skin.

"Did you speak to Doctor Helm? Well, I was a spy for the French during the war and I still have some French contacts. They sent me here to lay the groundwork for a French invasion. Spain will soon no longer be able to protect her colonies and France wants those colonies. If I can find the right people in California and persuade them to support France, I will be a very wealthy man. Doctor Helm recognized me as he almost caught me once before."

"I can't stop you from your conspiracy against Spain, but I can stop you from ruining the reputation of a young woman and my friend. Here is what you will do tomorrow. And you will not tell Senorita or anyone else of our talk."

The next day Senor Barca returned to the Alvarado Hacienda and completed his portrait. He did not speak of his encounter with the Queen of Swords. When he was finished, he let it be known that the portrait would be unveiled the next day at noon.

Colonel Montoya was his slippery smiling self as he mixed with the other guests. Tessa was everywhere cheerful and gracious and beautiful as ever. Soon this house will be mine, thought Montoya.

As promised, Senor Barca gathered everyone in the parlor. With a flurry and fanfare, he uncovered the painting. A gasp arose from those gathered.

"Oh, Senor Barca," cried Tessa, "it is beautiful." She kissed him on the cheek. "It almost looks like I would stand up and start talking. Even Papa's portrait is perfect. And how you captured Marta in the mirror is amazing. You even captured momma's roses in the open window. I love it, Gracias."

"Yes," Senor Barca, "it is amazing," whispered Montoya into Barca's ear. "I thought one thousand reales would have put the Queen of Swords in the picture."

"I had a better offer Colonel, one of steel wielded by a flesh and blood woman in black. It was suggested that I not defame the beautiful Senorita or I would not live long enough to spend the gold. I concur."

"I hope your French masters are as understanding. Yes Senor Barca, I do know about your mission for the French. France will never set foot in the New World again." Said Montoya.

"That is a matter that remains to be seen, Colonel. For now I wish you Adieu." He turned and walked out of the hacienda and climbed into his buggy and left, never to be seen again by the inhabitants of Santa Helena.

The road to Monterey was a long one and Senor Barca had to camp over night. As he slept, he felt a sword prick he neck. Opening his eyes, he saw the Queen of Swords.

"You colonials need to learn the proper way to awaken someone. Using a sword is rather tacky."

"I am here to thank you for protecting Senorita Alvarado. I didn't want you to go away empty handed," She said as she handed him a bag of coins.

"Five thousand reales compliments of Colonel Montoya. Have a nice trip, Senor." She turned mounted her stead and rode away.

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